Battle's End
by empyrealessence
Summary: Focus. That's what Vegeta needed to do. He needed to become stronger than his alternate future self or else he would die, but death didn't scare him. He needed to become stronger to prove he didn't need Kakarot to win. While others fought to save Earth, he fought for himself. After all, there was nothing holding him to the planet or its people.


Battle's End- 1: Daisies are Blue

"If you're going to talk so much with that loud, obnoxious mouth of yours, you should know how to defend yourself. You know, just in case you drive an android to insanity."

Bulma rolled her eyes at Vegeta's sarcastic remark, but his point did get her thinking. She has always felt helpless compared to her fighter friends and sometimes even a little excluded.

"So, what do you think about a little training? Everyone else is. "

"As if I'd ask you for help!" Bulma turned away from him. As rude as this guy was, she couldn't help but find him a little cute. And it wouldn't hurt to have some company before everyone leaves to train...

"Fine suit yourself. It's not like I even wanted to help you in the first place, I was just trying out this whole 'being a nice person' thing." Vegeta replied. That was a lie. He couldn't care less about humans and their altruistic garbage; he just felt that surely a woman with such a strong wit should be just as physically strong. Besides, it's not like that fool Yamcha was going to protect her, and he needed to keep her around to provide him with training resources.

The two stubborn individuals stood cross-armed facing away from each other. Neither wanted to be the first to turn around.

"So tomorrow afternoon then?" Vegeta finally uttered out, knowing she couldn't refuse him.

"We'll see. " Bulma said with a smirk before walking away, leaving Vegeta behind with a smirk just as smug.

"JUST FOCUS YOUR DAMN Ki, WOMAN!"

"I CAN'T FOCUS ANYTHING BUT YOUR TANTRUMS THAT YOU THROW EVERY FIVE SECONDS!"

It was a sunny afternoon. Bulma and Vegeta were standing under a large Capsule Corp branded umbrella, shielding themselves from the Sun's harmful rays, and more importantly, as Bulma said earlier, "bad tan lines." They stood at the top of a small rocky mountain in the outskirts of the city. It had been ten minutes into the flying lesson and the two had already become unnerved.

"Well, maybe you're just a bad teacher. " Bulma argued after repeatedly failing to 'discover her energy'.

"I'm sorry, maybe I would be better if I remembered how I was taught to fly WHEN I WAS THREE, you weak woman! It's clear I'm just wasting him time here." Vegeta retorted back with just as much rage.

"Well sorry I'm not some super strength alien like you." Bulma muttered back. She suddenly had no more energy to scream back. It took all her might to hold back tears. His comment reminded her of her weakness, which lead to her other issues that she sure as hell wasn't going to discuss with _him._ She thought back to her childhood, always relying on Goku to fight her battles as she watched from the side, eyes wide but helpless.

 _"_ Well, well, has somebody finally cracked?" A wave of adrenaline washed over Vegeta as he finally won their little feud, but he couldn't help but feel a pang of... something else. He couldn't find the word to describe the feeling, but he knew he had felt it vaguely before. What was the word? He knew it was important. Had he become so weak that he failed to remember one silly word? He was he almighty prince of all saiyans, and he wasn't going to let one cursed word defeat him. And since when did words matter to him anyway?

"Gah I can't take it anymore!" Vegeta roared as dropped his fist to the ground, destroying the mountain.

Bulma, who was storming off on the side of the mountain felt the little rocks break. The ground slipped away from underneath her feet and she was pulled to the ground, which for her no longer existed. Her nausea stopped when she finally hit something hard, followed by a large sediment falling atop her leg. She let out a blood curdling scream as she felt a sharp, searing hot pain on her leg. Her pain was only intensified as she noticed a speck growing bigger and bigger into a rock right above her head. She quickly forced her eyes closed, not willing to witness her demise.

Bulma felt a quickening pulse, but to her surprise, it wasn't her own. She moved her hand around, trying to figure out where it was coming from. Her eyes remained shut. She was still shaking, bracing herself for the impact that was bound to come at any second. But it never came, so why was she still shaking? The harsh, brittle breeze finally hit her; she even felt the movement in her flowing hair. Even so, she didn't feel cold. She was surrounded by an aura of warmth, which she snuggled to before the darkness caused her to doze off.

 _Remorse_. The damn word was remorse _._ He knew it because he was feeling it and felt it stronger than ever. He stared down at the shivering woman in his arms. Her limp body swayed as the rough wind blew. Never had he seen her so vulnerable. Her frailty disgusted him. He was wrong to think she was worth saving, yet the idea or her pain disgusted him even more. He knew the look on her face as he had mocked her lack of strength. It was a face he himself had made all too often in the face of Frieza as he adobe his every wish. It was the face he made when _Kakarrot_ defeated him. He understood.

He flew faster toward the city with his heartbeat doubling his flying speed. He had managed to save her before the boulder got to her, but something could've happened before then. Even if it had, he wouldn't have cared. He couldn't. He was a warrior, not a poet. Damn. He was so wrapped up in scolding himself that he didn't notice her consciousness. She was awake.

"We're almost there now," he told her, "just hang on."

Hearing the rugged voice soothed her. She managed to open one eye to look at her surroundings, but instantly regretted it as soon as she saw the emptiness below. The sight made her jump and snuggle in closer to Vegeta. Wait...Vegeta? The realization that she was so close to him instantly snapped her out of her hysteria. Mentally she didn't know whether to be mad or grateful, but either or, she still started to blush.

 _Knock knock knock_

Vegeta opened the hospital room door. As soon as it was unlocked, Yamcha, holding a handful of flowers, stormed in. His eyes wildly darted across the room until they landed on Bulma.

She lay in a small hospital bed, wearing a classic hospital gown and a heavy cast on her leg. Her gloomy face was lit up as soon as their eyes met.

"I came as soon as I heard from your parents," Yamcha told her in low, concerned tone, "I'm so glad to see you're ok." He handed her the bundle of glowing white flowers. "I brought you these to brighten your room a little. They're daisies, your favourite."

Bulma cheerfully accepted the gift but only half-heartedly pecked him on the cheek. Daisies weren't her favourite.

Vegeta had slipped out of Bulma's room the minute Yamcha went in. He couldn't stand that guy. He had gone to train, but he had no concentration. Something was holding him back. He tried eating more, but the extra food only dragged him down even more. He was out of ideas. He needed to train to defeat those blasted androids and prove he didn't need Kakarot in the process! As he flew around the Earth, he has spotted a patch of brilliant blue flowers. The guilt over hurting Bulma flooded back to him. What had that woman done to him? He was a fearless warrior who had killed many and not thought twice about it, but the sight of Bulma's fearful expression burned in his mind. It must've been that she had been so kind to him, offering to keep him sheltered. Of course, it was supposed to be expected of her to treat a Prince in such a manner, but he could tell her motives were different, although he still wasn't sure of them. Whatever, he didn't care why she was being nice, but it had better not have been out of pity. He thought back to the image of Yamcha bringing her flowers and how it made her happy. Was that all it took to please an Earthling? He reached down and picked out the delicate flower. It resembled the ones Yamcha had been holding earlier, only a shade of light blue. A peddle fell off from the forceful wind. It was pitiful and represented the inherent fragility of humans and their soft hearts... but not hers. He dropped the flower and went in search for one more appropriate.

Vegeta stood at the roof of Wukong hospital, contemplating what he was about to do. He was unsure if his future actions would free him from his own mental prison, but he knew he had to try.

He flew over to her room. At first, it had dawned on him that he didn't know where her room was, but he eventually found himself instinctively drifting in the right direction. Soon enough he was in front of the window, the cold breeze of midnight wind keeping his sweaty head cool.

He looked at her pale face resting. She looked so relaxed, an expression he wasn't used to seeing. Slowly, he lifted the window and snuck in. An empty vase sat on her bedside table, with a bundle of white daisies in the trash below. The sight couldn't help but lift his spirits.

Bulma awakened with the Sun. It was early in the morning, just early enough to see the colours of sunrise. She glanced around her surroundings, remembering the events that had lead to her location. Leaning over to see the time, she noticed something new on her bedside table. The vase she had left empty the day before was now filled with a bundle of blood red roses. She reached over to pick one up to smell its enticing floral aroma, but pricked her finger on its thorn. A drop of blood started to ooze out if the small wound followed by the inevitable acute pain of a cut. She didn't flinch. Instead, she worse a goofy smile on her face as she realized who had left them there.

"Thanks Vegeta." she told no one but herself in the lonely room, "How did you know roses were my favourite?"


End file.
